


Of Injuries, Debris, and Familiar Hands

by SabbyStarlight



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bromance, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mac!whump, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 20:49:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: It’s so dark when Mac wakes up that it takes him a few moments to decide that he really is awake.  It’s the worst kind of darkness.  Surrounding, suffocatingly black.  He can’t tell if his eyes are actually open or not, although, maybe it’s a good thing it’s so dark because any form of light would make the brutal pounding in his head even worse and he’s pretty sure that’s not something he wants.





	Of Injuries, Debris, and Familiar Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all! I’ve been a little MIA but I swear I’m still here! This was supposed to be a quick little thing but it got away from me a bit. Hope you enjoy!

It’s so dark when Mac wakes up that it takes him a few moments to decide that he really is awake. It’s the worst kind of darkness. Surrounding, suffocatingly black. He can’t tell if his eyes are actually open or not, although, maybe it’s a good thing it’s so dark because any form of light would make the brutal pounding in his head even worse and he’s pretty sure that’s not something he wants. 

There are sounds, he notices, though he can’t distinguish what exactly they are. Creaking, shifting sounds, like a haunted house at the witching hour. Is that why it’s so dark, he wonders? He didn’t remember going into a haunted house but then again he doesn’t remember exactly how he got there, wherever there was, so he’s not ruling it out as a possibility. The noises are still present, but they seem muffled and far away. Like from the far end of a football field. He doesn’t remember going to one of those either, though. 

Jack, he remembers, the lack of a booming Texas drawl and steadying hands next to him suddenly becoming painfully apparent. Where was Jack? Jack would know what was going on. Why it was so dark. Why there’s someone taking a pickaxe to his brain. Jack wouldn’t be very happy about that last one at all. It would all be fine once he found Jack, he decided, so he went to reach out, knowing that his partner was never more than an arm's length away when he needed him, only to find that his arm wouldn’t move. It was stuck beneath something, though Mac couldn’t tell what it was. Attempting to pull it free caused the creaking haunted house sounds to start up again though, louder this time, closer, so he switched arms. 

It had never crossed Mac’s mind to be scared, he was mainly confused about the whole situation. But when he stiffly moved his left arm, which felt like it hadn’t been used in hours, only to find that he couldn’t reach it more than a few more mere inches above his body, he began to panic. He frantically pressed against what felt like rough lumber and the occasional steel beam above him until his arm wouldn’t reach any further. Trapped. Well, that explains the haunted house noises, he thought to himself as the rubble around him let out an ominous groan. He lowered his arm slowly, realizing that the chances of him surviving would be much greater if he didn't bring the rest of what he assumed was a demolished building crashing down around him any more than it already was. 

It seemed that the rush of new information had kickstarted his brain a bit. Or maybe it was the panic. Either way, he found himself quickly transitioning into survival mode. He was stuck, literally. He still couldn’t move his right arm, but he had oxygen, which was nothing if not lucky in his current situation. The fact that he didn’t know exactly where he was or how he got there was a little disconcerting, but he was blaming it on what he was fairly certain was a head wound. He’d gotten out of worse situations before, he just needed to not freak out about the tight space he was trapped in and find Jack. Jack would make it better. He always did. 

Out of ideas, he tried to call out for his partner. Unfortunately, all he accomplished was groaning out a painful cough and drawing attention to the previously unnoticed thick layer of drywall dust around him. He swallowed thickly a few times, choosing not to linger on thinking about how much he wanted a drink of water, before trying again. This time at least producing some form of sound, even if it didn’t quite sound like Jack’s name. 

It was silent, even the shifting, creaking, noises had ceased for the moment, and all Mac heard was the sound of his own voice reverberating back to him in the tiny enclosed space that seemed to be getting smaller with every passing moment. Until suddenly, a crackling noise sounded uncomfortably close to his ear. In a moment of blind terror, he assumed that the building, if that’s even what he was trapped among, had continued to crumble around him and he had the presence of mind to throw his free arm across his face. 

He remained there, muscles taut, counting the rapidly beating pulse pounding throughout his aching head, waiting for the inevitable moment the rubble completely entrapped him, for a seemingly endless moment. If he hadn’t been so focused on the panic-fueled adrenaline coursing through his veins, he would have been embarrassed over the length of time it took him to notice the voice breaking through the crackling noise. It was a familiar voice, comforting, though not the exact one Mac wanted to hear at that moment. 

“...ac?” The voice was still calling, Mac noticed. He should probably pay attention. “Mac? Can you hear me?” Riley. It was Riley calling for him, and if the close proximity of her voice to his ear was any indication, her voice was coming through comms. “Mac if you can hear this I need you to answer me.” Now that he was focusing, he could pick up on the frantic fear in her voice. A worried Riley, Mac had come to learn, was one without Jack there to reassure her that everything would be fine. 

Worry about his partner’s safety rekindled, Mac tried again. “Jack!” He called out, words breaking off into another round of painful, hacking coughs. 

“Mac, it’s Riley,” He focused on her voice. “I’m reading you but it’s not very clear. To be honest I’m not even sure if I have the two-way channel back up and running properly. Can you hear me? Are you hurt?” 

“Jack.” He repeated again, ignoring the scraping burn in his throat from shouting. “Need to find Jack, Riles.” 

“Oh thank God.” He heard her breathe in relief, and then in a tone fitting of the strong secret agent she had become, she shouted to someone other than him. “I have verbal confirmation of life! Someone get Agent Dalton over here.”

"Jack?" Mac asked again, his voice lilting up into a question. 

"He's fine, Mac." Riley hurridly assured, realizing the motivation behind Mac's panic. "Perfectly fine. He's out there digging through the rubble with the rest of the rescue team. He’s trying to find you. Someone's going to get him right now, okay? And then you can talk to him." 

"K," Mac agreed, breathing a dust-filled sigh of relief and slipping back into silence. 

"That doesn't mean you can stop answering me, though." Riley quickly added. "I need you to keep talking. Are you hurt?" 

"I don't... I don't know," He replied. squinting against the pounding in his head. "Head hurts." 

"Yeah, letting a building collapse on top of you will do that." She forced a laugh, trying to keep up their typical light-hearted banter though it fell short. "Anything else?" 

"Still stuck." Mac reminded her after a moment of serious consideration. 

And with that she couldn't help but smile, the first real smile that had graced her face since the heartwrenching moment when the building she had watched Mac and Jack go into suddenly collapsed with a deafening roar. She had been running surveillance in the van, parked safely out of the blast zone (though they hadn't known that needed to be a prerequisite when they began the op) and even though she knew it was a foolish thing to think, she couldn't help but feel guilty that she wasn't in there with her team when the building blew. "Yeah, Mac. I know. We're working on getting you out. That's where Jack is, remember?" 

"Jack," Mac repeated, drawing comfort from the name spoken in a voice so quiet she was fairly certain it wasn't meant for her to hear. 

As if summoned by his partner's need, there was a sudden flurry of noise as Jack came barreling through the taped off and heavily guarded section of the parking lot she was working from, a combined effort of local law enforcement and Matty's attempt at keeping the ever-growing crowd at bay. There was no trace of the pristine lab coat or facial-recognition scanning glasses Jack had been wearing when he and Mac had slipped into the hospital undercover. Scientists sent from the CDC, their nametags claimed, coming to collect samples from the recent flu outbreak, when in reality they were searching for evidence of a local doctor's participation in an insurance scam. To someone who wasn't as familiar with him as she was there was nothing to really distinguish him apart from anyone else who had been caught in the blast, he was just a blur of dust, spackled on thick with sweat, covering every inch of clothing and skin. 

“You got him?” He asked, breathless, as he skidded to a stop beside the rickety table the police captain had set up for her. “He’s okay?” 

Riley nodded as she handed him his earpiece, his hopeful expression a welcome change from the last time the high-tech piece of plastic had been in his hand; when he had tossed it onto her makeshift lab in a huff, telling her to give it back to him when there was something worth listening to on the other end. “Ask him yourself.” She said with a smile. 

"Mac?" Jack asked, voice haggard with exhaustion and stress. "Mac, you there pal?" 

"Jack?" Mac's voice came through the earpiece, and though it wasn't the best connection, there were still echoing pops and static crackling in the line, it was enough. 

Jack's shoulders sagged in relief and he let out a huff of air before his grime-coated face broke into a grin. "Yeah, Mac. I'm right here. We're getting you out, okay? Just hang in there for me. Are you hurt?"

"I'm stuck," Mac reported as if it were the first time, and Riley couldn't help but laugh. 

"Yeah, we know that much," Jack pressed on, seemingly unphased by his partner's repetitive and unfocused answer. "But are you hurt?"

"Don't know..." Mac's voice trailed off as he tried to make his pounding, confused brain work backward to track down any injuries. He didn't make it very far. "But I don't like being stuck. Can you come get me?" 

"Workin' on it as we speak," Jack promised, his previously relieved smile was quickly being replaced by the worried frown he had been wearing ever since Riley saw him stumbling his way towards her through the smoke and dust after the building had collapsed. "And judgin' by the way you're sounding, I'm willing to be you've got a nasty bump on your head so I need you to stay with me, okay? Keep talking?"

"What about?" Mac asked, clearly puzzled by the request.

Riley stood up and dragged the chair she had been sitting in over to where Jack was standing. He shook his head in protest until her unwavering glare finally made him give up, collapsing into it with a weary sigh. "Well, it'd sure make me feel a lot better if I knew you weren't hurt while bein' trapped in there." Jack continued, circling back to his original question. "Can you try to check and see for me?" 

Mac paused, contemplating the older man's words. "Hmm," he hummed. "My arm's stuck." 

"Yeah, Mac." Jack sighed, reaching up to rub at his tired eyes before quickly realizing that the amount of dust and debris on his hands would only make things worse. "I know. Your everything's stuck, buddy. Anything else?" 

"It's really stuck." Mac insisted, trying in vain to free his arm yet again. The rubble around him creaked ominously at his movements. "Like, a lot."

The crease between Jack's brows deepened. "Can you feel it?" 

"Don't think so," Mac said, not seeming upset by the new information in the slightest. "Just can't move it."

"Try movin' your fingers for me." Jack continued, staring icily ahead at the mound of rubble his partner was trapped beneath, afraid to meet Riley's eyes.  
A few seconds passed before a sharp hiss crackled through the earpieces. Jack's eyes closed, his fears coming to fruition. "Ouch." Mac finally said, voice barely more than a whisper. 

"Okay now, if it's hurtin' just leave it be," Jack instructed, voice substantially calmer than his panicked eyes. "But that's a yes to movin'?"

"Yeah," Mac answered, slightly breathless. "Yeah, not much though, and I'm definitely feeling it now." 

"Alright bud, I'm gonna let you talk to Riley again for a little while, okay? But I'll be back." Jack took his earpiece out and set it on the table before Mac had a chance to protest. "Alright, y'all!" Jack yelled, capturing the attention of everyone making up the ever-growing rescue party. "I've got confirmation of life from our trapped agent but he's hurt. Double-time it, I need him out of there now!" And with that, he took off at a jog to resume digging through the building remnants to reach Mac. 

"Mac?" Riley asked tentatively. "You still with me?" 

"Yeah," He answered and she could hear the creaking of the rubble around him as he shifted position. "Want out of here, though." 

The shock of pain seemed to have erased some of the fogginess from his mind. He was sounding more like her Mac, just a hurting, scared version. "We're working on it." She promised. "That's where Jack went, to go back to helping get you free." 

"I think I can hear them," Mac said a few moments later. If he strained he could almost make out voices from somewhere above him. Nothing distinct, just a slight hum of vocalizations among the crackling pops of beams being moved. "Sounds closer." 

"Good," Riley sighed in relief. "That's good.” She waved down one of the first responders, a young police officer positioned near her makeshift table in charge of keeping back the growing crowd of concerned onlookers and news reporters, and clicked her earpiece off for a moment. "Can you go find Agent Dalton? He's working with the recovery effort. Tell him that they're getting closer, Agent MacGyver can hear them." 

He nodded and took off to relay the message. 

When she turned the link connecting her to Mac back on, she found him mid-ramble. "Mac? Sorry, I missed the first part of that. What's going on?" 

"Umm," Mac hesitated and Riley's worry spiked up another notch. "I was just saying that I need to keep my heart rate down as low as I can. How long have I been stuck here?" 

"A few hours," Riley frowned, checking the time on her watch. "Or close to it. Why?" 

Mac's sigh came through, harsh and gratingly loud. "Cause that arm that's stuck? It's too dark to see for sure but I'm pretty sure it's bleeding." 

"Damn it," Riley cursed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "Okay, yeah, you're right. Just try to stay calm and don't move too much. They're working as fast as they can, Mac." 

"Is Jack still on comms?" He asked suddenly, changing the subject away from his injuries. 

"No, he's back working with the rescue team." She answered, frown deepening. "Why?" 

Mac's answer was hesitant. "Just... I don't know... I'm pretty sure I've got a concussion so it could be nothing but I swear I heard him just now." 

"No, no, that's good!" Riley exclaimed. "That means they're getting closer." She began waving her arms to get Jack's attention. 

"You're close." She told him when he finally noticed her and ran back over. She handed him a water bottle and insisted he take a drink before she continued. "He can hear you." 

Jack smiled, teeth flashing bright against his dust-covered skin. "Hey, Mac," He called, quickly fitting his earpiece back into place. "We're coming buddy. Give me just a few minutes and I'll have everyone stop makin' such a racket, okay? When you hear it get quiet I need you to yell for me, okay? Riley'll let you know when over comms if you can't tell, but that way I can get an idea of where exactly you're at. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah," Mac agreed, the combination of his partner's voice and having an actual plan in place, relaxing him a little more. "Copy that. Hey, Jack? Hurry okay?"

"On my way," Jack promised as he headed back to the rubble, tossing his drained water bottle over his shoulder on the way. 

"Alright Mac," Riley said once Jack had explained the plan and the rest of the rescue team and volunteers had gone silent. She winced as his yelling voice echoed loud in her ear but she didn't want to cut their connection even for a second for fear of losing it again. 

The team stared for a moment, eyes roaming the pile of dust covered debris, but when Mac yelled again Jack heard it. "There," He pointed to a spot a few yards away from where they had last been digging. "He's there." In a flurry of motion. the once silent work site jumped back into action as everyone scrambled to begin the slow process of carefully digging closer to Mac's location. 

"Good job, Mac." Riley smiled. "I think it worked. They're on their way." 

It didn't take them long, really, to remove the building remnants away from him, but to Mac, it felt like an eternity. His head was pounding and as reassuring as it was to have the sounds moving closer, he could hear distinct voices now, not just Jack's, the constantly raising volume was doing nothing to help his still-pounding headache. Once Jack had drawn his attention to his injured arm, the pain had hit him fiercely and hadn't let up since, the blood loss leaving him cold and tired. Riley's voice in his ear was the only thing keeping him awake, though he would occasionally forget to answer her as his eyes slipped closed. 

He wasn't sure if it was Riley's voice trying to get him to answer her or the sudden sliver of sunlight breaking through the darkness that pulled him out of his near slumber. "Ri?" He asked, voice hoarse and words slightly slurring. "They're close, there's light." 

Whatever her answer was, it was drowned out by a more important voice. Jack's. "Mac, bud? You hear me?" 

"Jack?" Mac smiled despite the pain. "Yeah, I'm here. Wanna get me outta this mess?" 

Another piece of rubble was moved, presumably by Jack himself if the familiar groan before the patch of sunlight widened was any indication, There was a patch of blue sky for Mac to squint up for a moment before it was blocked by a familiar face. Grimy and dust-covered, but smiling in relief. "Hey man," He joked. "Come here often?" 

Mac laughed, a harsh dry bark that quickly turned into a coughing fit that left him moaning in pain as his arm shifted unnaturally and the pain in his head skyrocketed. He vaguely heard Jack calling for a medic and then there was more shifting of the debris above him until suddenly gentle fingers were carding through his hair. 

Mac leaned into the comfort of his partner's hand until the worst of the pain had passed. "Here," Jack said softly, taking care to keep his voice pitched low among the noise of the rescue team. "Think you can take a drink of this?" A water bottle was pressed against his lips and Mac drank greedily. It was pulled away far too soon. "Slow down," Jack warned. "There's plenty more where that came from but you gotta take it slow." 

"Want outta here," Mac answered.

"Well, now, that's gonna be a little easier said than done." Jack apologized and Mac found himself wondering if he maybe should have been paying attention to some of the other voices swarming above him. "That busted up arm of yours?" Jack continued, seeing Mac's confusion. "It's stuck pretty good. They're a little concerned that the piece of rebar keeping you trapped is the only thing stopping you from bleeding out." 

Mac frowned, turning his head to get his first look at the mangled mess of his arm. What he could see, through the blood and dust, explained why it was hurting so badly. He truly wasn't sure how much longer he would have lasted had Jack not found him when he did. He groaned and turned his head back towards Jack, seeking the comfort of familiar hands. 

"You're gonna be fine," Jack promised, trying his best to keep Mac distracted as the team of medics moved closer. "I'll get you out of here soon, okay? Just hang in there for me." 

"Hurts," Mac whispered as he flinched away from one of the medic's prying hands poking at the gash on his forehead that had knocked him unconscious. 

"They're gonna give you something to help," Jack assured, watching as a syringe of pain medication was prepared. "Take the edge off and let you sleep through this next part. Don't look like it'll be too much fun. " 

It was a testament to just how much Mac was hurting when he didn't even protest the drugs. They did help with the pain, though they left him feeling even more light headed and drowsy. "Stay?" He asked, blue eyes blown wide and searching for Jack's familiar brown when he felt the incessant pull of sleep. 

Jack shifted until he was sitting rather than kneeling, settling in for the long haul, and dug through the rubble until he found Mac's free hand. He intertwined their fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I ain't goin' nowhere." He promised as Mac's eyes drifted closed.

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I’ve written these guys so I hope it read okay. I’d love to hear what you thought!


End file.
